


Merry Happy

by DevilishKurumi



Series: Midlife Crisis [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Needles, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and Dave buy Sollux ear piercings for Christmas, and Sollux briefly wonders about his entire life before deciding he's better off not being so neurotic about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, you guys <3 Sorry this doesn't have any sweet, sweet porn in it, I ran out of time :c Don't worry though, I'll make up for it.

            You're pulled away from your computer sometime after eleven when you hear something tapping against your door.  It's not too late for Karkat to come over and hang out for a while, especially since he's probably only just gotten off work; he's usually not so quiet about it, though.

            You wander through the apartment, flipping on lights when you can, and lean to look through the peephole.  You don't see anybody, but the tapping continues, and so you unlock the door and swing it open.  If someone's messing with your apartment...

            "Merry Christmas," Dirk says.  He's holding a string of white Christmas lights, plugged into one of the exterior plugs in the wall and lighting up his face.  Dave is standing on a stepladder beside your doorframe, a staple gun in hand and more of the lights already stapled against one side of the frame.

            "What are you two doing?" you ask, unable to keep the utter disbelief out of your voice.  Seriously?  Christmas lights?  You know that maybe you aren't the most festive during the holiday season, but are they really trying to do some kind of _Christmas Carol_ thing with you here?

            "Making you holly jolly in time for the holidays," Dave says, stapling part of the wire above your head.  "Obviously."

            "Yeah, obviously, but... _why_?"

            "We were bored," Dirk says.  "You wouldn't have wanted multicolor lights, right?"

            "Uh."  You bite your lip briefly, then shrug.  "I guess not."

            "Told you," Dirk tells Dave, sounding more smug than he really has a right to.  Dave sticks out his tongue and staples another part to the frame.  "He wanted to get you blinking, multicolored lights that were the size of a fucking football."

            "They were classy," Dave responds defensively.

            "Dirk talked you out of a mistake," you say.  "I probably would have had to punch you for something like that."

            "Kinky," Dave drawls.

            "By the way, we're getting you your present tomorrow," Dirk cuts in, shifting from foot to foot and shoving his hands into his pockets as the string of lights gets too short to hold.  He looks maybe a little awkward, and you don't really know what that means.  Dave always struck you as the awkward one of the two.

            "I don't need a present," you say.

            "Yeah, well, you're getting one," Dave replies, "We're gonna pay for you to get your ears pierced."

            "What?"

            "We know a place," Dirk says, "You wanted to get them pierced, right?"

            "I don't..."

            You look at Dave, stepping aside automatically as he picks up the stepladder, and then you look at Dirk, who still looks strangely awkward.  You bump your shoulder against his.

            "...Fine, okay.  Sounds... good, I guess."

            "That's the spirit," Dirk says.  You can't help but grin a little when you see the faintest hint of a smile on his face.  "Don't worry, Sylph's good at what they do.  You'll be pumped full of metal before you even realize it's happening."

            "And we'll be there to distract you from the pain," Dave says.

            "Yeah, well.  I don't think your idea of distraction is going to be accepted in a public venue."

            Dirk chuckles and presses his shoulder against yours, then fails to move away.  You don't mind one bit.  Dave doesn't seem to notice the way you press against Dirk's side as he finishes stapling your new decorations to your door, folding the stepladder and putting it aside.  You can't help but admit that it looks pretty festive, and not in some kind of tacky, post-ironic way that you'd expect Dave to come up with.

            "Thanks," you say, and you're a little surprised to be so sincere about it.

            "You owe us hot chocolate," Dave responds, "You know, for a job well done.  It's obligatory."

            "He's right," Dirk adds.

            "You're acting like I _have_ hot chocolate," you say, but nonetheless you nudge Dirk towards the door and wave Dave in as well.

            "Bullshit you don't have hot chocolate, everyone has hot chocolate.  It's fucking December, that's all you're allowed to drink."  Dave's wearing his determined face - which makes you hesitate, wondering when you started noticing what his vague facial expressions even mean - and it's actually true.  You do have hot chocolate - just no milk.

            Whatever, they can deal with instant hot chocolate in hot water.  They settle into your couch like they own the place, and you go heat up enough water for a few cups.  You try not to think about how casual they are about showing up at your place - and then you force yourself to think about it, because it's stupid to be so anxious about something so stupid.  Of course they're casual about it.  They're over often enough, and they enjoy spending time with you.  You really need to lay off the over-thinking thing.  You also need to stop assuming that it's Karkat coming over; he's not the only person you know in the area.

            You bring out all three mugs and hand them to an eager pair of twins, and they move apart to let you sit between them.  You know you have work to finish, but you figure that you can get back to it in half an hour, once the two of them get bored and decide to go find someone else to force holiday decorations on.  "So," you say, "You're making me get my ears pierced?"

            "More like we're going to make you do what you said you wanted to do," Dave says.  He makes a face when he takes a sip of the hot chocolate, but if he wants the good shit he can go to Starbucks.

            "You don't have to if you don't want to," Dirk adds.  You shake your head.

            "It's okay.  I've always wanted piercings.  I might as well take you guys up on the offer of paying for it."

            "That's my man," Dave says with a grin, throwing an arm around your shoulders.  You don't ask him what that's supposed to mean, and he doesn't elaborate - probably because, unlike you, he doesn't over think every single thing.  He just leans his head on your shoulder and reaches out his arm to brush his knuckles against Dirk's hair.  They drink their hot chocolate and watch the basic cable you've got without any complaints about how boring you are.

            "I really should finish up some work," you say after almost an hour, sighing despite yourself.

            "Alright," Dirk says.  Then, once you've gotten up, he asks, "You mind if we crash here tonight?  Not really feeling like moving much."

            "Yeah," Dave agrees, "Besides, your bed is way more comfortable."

            "Uh.  Sure.  Yeah, of course."  You bite your lip briefly, then shrug your shoulders.  "Why would I stop you?"

            "Damned good question," Dave says.  "Go get your shit done, Sol."

            You give them a half wave as you wander off to finish up the coding you need to; you figure it'll take about twenty minutes to get that done, and then you can drag Dave and Dirk to bed.  Or at least Dirk.  You're not sure Dave needs any influence to get some shuteye, but Dirk...

            It takes about an hour and a half.  After about forty minutes, Dave wanders in; he gives your hair a ruffle before stripping down to his boxers and climbing under the covers, and you don't mind at all.  When you finish, though, Dirk still hasn't come in, and so you get up and head back into the living room, cracking your back with your arms raised over your head.

            Dirk is lounging on the couch, his gloves lying on the coffee table and his mug stacked on top of Dave's.  He looks more tired than he really should for someone who's still up.  You wonder just how much sleep he gets.

            "You going to come to bed?" you ask.

            "I'm not really tired," he says.  You almost roll your eyes as you make your way to the couch, pushing at his legs until he leaves enough room for you to sit down.  You pull his legs back over your lap, and he looks at you.

            "You don't sleep a lot, do you?"

            "Nah.  Don't have time.  Too many irons, too many fires, you know how it is."

            You do know how that is, and you can't help but chuckle.  "Yeah, I guess."

            Dirk flips through channels idly, his eyes closing for moments at a time before opening again.  You wonder what the point is of staying up when you're tired, but even then you know you've done it more than once yourself.  You find yourself pulling off his shoes, and he doesn't complain so you take off his socks as well.  He makes murmuring noises of appreciation when you wrap your hands around one foot, pressing your thumbs into the arch and rubbing outwards in short pushes.  You don't even know what you're doing, really, but Dirk's sighs sound pleased, so you guess you're on the right track here.

            Dirk tilts his head to look at you after a few minutes.  "Dave likes you," he says.  You don't know how you're supposed to take that.

            "I figured that out," is all you say in return.

            "We both like you," Dirk continues, curling his toes as you finish one foot and start on the next.  "But he's not used to it.  So he might act like a little bitch about it sometimes.  Say stupid shit, that kind of thing."

            You wonder if Dave told Dirk about your reaction when he'd made fun of your age.  You hope not.  "He's been okay so far."

            "Just a head's up, in case he does something stupid.  You're really good at this," he adds, his voice dropping off as he closes his eyes.  You smile and watch as he stretches out his toes when you push your fingers against the ball of his foot.  "I haven't gotten a foot massage in a while."

            "Good enough to get you to come to bed?" you ask, and you try not to be embarrassed by asking it.  "That's kind of my plan here, after all."

            "Not quite," Dirk says with a lopsided smile.  "Nice try, though."

            You smile a little and rest your hands against his calves once you're done with his feet.  "Do you not sleep a lot?"

            "A few hours a night," Dirk admits, the way you'd admit to forgetting to eat "once or twice."  You know better than to accept that at face value.  He seems to realize that too, because he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  "I haven't slept well in a while, I guess.  It's not a big deal."

            You find yourself rubbing your thumbs against Dirk's calves.  "Maybe," you say, but you don't think you really have any reason to call him out on his behavior.  You don't sleep too much yourself, after all.  "Still, you should come try to sleep anyway."

            "Are you trying to get me into bed?" Dirk asks, and you can feel yourself blushing a little at the way he says it.

            "In a manner of speaking," you say, and he chuckles before finally nodding.

            "Sure.  Okay."  He pushes his legs off of you and you stand, turning to him and waiting for him to move.  When he doesn't, you roll your eyes and hold out your hands.

            "Seriously, Dirk.  If you're going to complain about my weight, you're going to have to get used to me complaining about your lack of sleep."

            "Something strikes me as hypocritical about that," he says, but nonetheless he takes your hands and lets you pull him up.  He keeps one of his hands in yours as you both move to the bedroom, and you make no attempt to pull away.

            Dave groans and rolls over when you open the bedroom door and cast a thin beam of light across his face, the room pitch black besides the light from your monitor.  "Grow up," you say, and he grunts at you.  Dirk looks at you up until you close the door and put the room back into almost complete darkness.

            "I'm liking this new assertiveness," he says plainly into the dark, and you don't try to turn away as your face heats up.  He can hardly see it, probably.

            You make to move away from him, but Dirk keeps his hand in yours, pulling you back towards the door.  His free hand finds the hem of your shirt, and then he pulls it up, managing to avoid knocking off your glasses as he tugs it over your head and then drops it to the floor.  His slow, purposeful movements make your muscles itch, but if he sees the tremor in your shoulders, he doesn't say anything about it.  You realize you've never gotten any relative alone time with Dirk before.  You hadn't thought alone time with either Strider was something that was acceptable until Dave had shown up at your door; now that you know it is, you're not sure how to deal with it.

            Dirk brings you out of your thoughts with a surprisingly chaste kiss, his lips pressed against yours lightly as his hands undo the fly of your jeans, wandering along the waistband once the button is undone and the zipper is pulled down, the rough skin of his palms resting on your hips.  Everything about him is slow and methodical and you sigh against his mouth.

            "I'm going to give you a massage one of these days," he says.

            "As if I need one more than you," you respond, and you can feel that almost-smile of his against your skin. 

            "Maybe not.  But you deserve one.  Come on."  He pushes your jeans down until you can kick them off, and then takes your hand again, pulling you with him as he moves to the bed.  "Later, though.  First, I'm going to get holes put in your ears."

            You grin and pull the comforter back, sitting on the edge of the bed as Dirk stands in front of you.  You still have your hand in his.  "You guys were strapped for ideas, weren't you?"

            "We get discounts," Dirk admits, not a bit hesitantly.  "But Dave thought you'd like it."

            "I do," you say, and then climb into bed, lying on your back and managing to slip your arm around Dave without waking him up.  Dirk climbs in after you, pulling the comforter back up before lying on his side, on top of your other arm.  You curl it around him and only think briefly about how weird it seems, then disregard the thought as mind bogglingly stupid.  "I'd never do it on my own."

            "We figured."  Dirk wraps an arm around your waist and looks at you through the dark.  "You really don't mind, though?" he asks after a minute.

            "Mind what?"

            "Us goading you into putting holes in your ears."

            You tilt your head to the side, looking back at Dirk for a long moment, then rock your head side to side a little.  "Not really.  I guess I could use more people encouraging me to do dumb things.  Haven't had someone to get me to do... honestly, just about _anything_ , for a long time.  So I don't mind that you guys are picking up my slack."

            Dirk nods against the pillow and closes his eyes.  "So long as you're not totally against it," he says.

            "I'm against not getting to sleep," Dave grumbles, and you squeeze your hand against his side.  He squirms backwards into you.

            "What a baby," Dirk mumbles.  You move your arm until your hand is by his shoulder, then rub it gently.

            "Both of you, go to sleep," you murmur, and you get sleepy sounding noises of agreement in return, which is all you really need before you manage to close your own eyes and look into getting some shut-eye yourself.

            It's a little after ten when you open your eyes again, and Dave and Dirk are getting dressed next to the closet.  Dave smoothes out Dirk's hair with a quick swipe of his hand, fixing his bedhead, and Dirk says something so low that you can't hear it.  Dave grins a little, his hand dropping to rest behind Dirk's neck, and then he notices that you're awake.

            "Cool, we can go get your ears done."

            "Right now?" you ask, a little surprised and still too groggy to really process the idea.  "Is there a deadline or something?"

            "Not really," Dave says, "I just want to see you popped full of metal."

            "He's been talking about it for days," Dirk says, and Dave kicks his ankle.  You shake your head and carefully get out of bed, kicking the clothes near your bed around for something relatively decent to wear.  "I think he might be developing a fetish."

            "Shut _up_ ," Dave says, kicking Dirk again before throwing a shirt at you.  It's the one you wore yesterday, but you really don't have it in you to put up a fight.  It's pretty clean, anyway, so you don't complain as you pull it on.  "Besides, we could go get some breakfast or something."

            "That could happen," you say, almost thoughtfully.  Dirk hands you a pair of jeans from the laundry basket, still folded from when you'd pulled it out of the dryer almost a week ago.  You really need to get on top of your basic chores.  "Are you guys going to let me actually wash or shave or anything before you drag me outside?"

            "I guess we can let you do that," Dave says, sounding overdramatically put-upon.  "Just hurry up, man, Porrim gets busy in the afternoon and if we get there by noon, we'll get tea service and that shit is awesome."

            "Porrim's cousin makes some pretty awesome tea," Dirk admits, and you roll your eyes at the both of them.

            "Okay, okay.  Give me fifteen minutes to be relatively presentable."

            "How does it take fifteen minutes to take off your clothes?" Dave asks, and you throw a pillow at him as you stand up and make your way to the bathroom.  "Ow, hey!  It was a compliment!"

            "Whatever," you grump at him good-naturedly, "Fifteen minutes."

            It ends up taking a little longer than that, because you realize halfway through brushing your teeth that you actually really do need to shave, but neither brother comes to pound on the door to get you to hurry up.  You end up going back to your room to find a clean shirt, and by the time you're ready to go, Dave and Dirk are lying on top of each other on the couch, watching _Toddlers & Tiaras_.

            "No," you say immediately, reaching over and flipping the television off.

            "Aw, man, we were just getting to the intense part," Dave complains.

            "There's no intense part in that show, it's just a bunch of kids wearing fake teeth walking around on stage.  Besides, I thought you wanted to get my ears pierced?"

            Dave stretches his arms and nearly smacks Dirk in the face with his hand, but Dirk leans out of the way.  You imagine he's probably used to Dave failing to notice his personal space.  "Yeah, okay, fair trade off.  I guess."

            "You _guess_?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.  "Yeah fucking right."

            "Yeah, I _gueth_ ," he responds, and you flip him off as you head to the door.  "Hey, you said it, I'm just repeating you!"

            "Ass," Dirk drawls, and then you hear Dave yelp.  You can imagine exactly how Dirk hit Dave upside the head, and that makes you grin.  "Mind if I drive?  I figure it might be easier, since your ears are going to be throbbing and it might distract you from, you know.  Not killing us."

            You chuckle and swing the door open wide, reaching down to yank the plug for the lights out of the socket when you realize you'd left them on all night.  "Yeah, sure, I don't mind.  Makes my life easier, I guess."  You wait until they're both out to lock your door, pocketing your keys and turning to them.  "So, which fast food place are we hitting up for breakfast?"

            "Carl's Junior., probably," Dave says as he and Dirk lead you down the steps towards their car.  "It's cheap and on the way."

            "Works for me."

            Dirk's car - or maybe it's Dave's car, or both of theirs, you don't know - is a red four door Chevy sedan; it's completely inconspicuous, which strikes you as a little odd.  You guess you just assumed they'd drive around in something flashy, or at least something covered in multiple garish bumper stickers.  You don't even think of climbing in the front passenger seat, sliding in behind it instead when Dirk unlocks the car and gets in.  Dave climbs in and shoots you a thumbs up.  "You excited, dude?"

            "I... guess?"  You shrug your shoulders.  "I don't know, should I be?"

            "Well, yeah, it'd be nice if you were stoked about us getting your ears pierced."

            "I thought you were talking about Carl's Junior."

            Dave rolls his eyes and clicks on his seatbelt as Dirk pulls out of the apartment parking lot, hanging a left at the light.  "Yeah fuckin' right," he says, "Seriously, is this not something you want to do?"

            "No," you say immediately, "I do want to.  I told you, I've always wanted to get my ears pierced.  I don't know, I just... never thought I'd actually be doing it, I guess, so I'm a little more anxious about it than I probably need to be."

            "Yeah, probably, you fuckin' pussy."

            You kick Dave's seat and he swats at you, and Dirk sighs and says, "Don't make me turn this car around."

            "Yes, sir," you say, and Dirk smirks at you in the rear-view mirror.  You wait until he looks over to merge to kick Dave's chair again, and before he can fully twist around in his seat to smack at you, Dirk reaches over and slaps his shoulder.

            "You're such a kissass," Dave grouses as he sits back down.  You don't bother responding; you just grin and sit back in your seat.

            Dirk's driving is controlled, unsurprisingly, and he takes side streets you don't recognize until you reach the one Carl's Junior in the entire county.  The drive through is packed with last minute breakfasters, so he parks and gets your order before hopping out, leaving the engine running.  You aren't surprised that he already knows what Dave wants.

            "Seriously, Sollux," Dave says, turning in his seat, "You _are_ down for this, right?"

            "Yeah," you reply with a lopsided grin.  "It's not like you're forcing me or anything.  Besides, I heard somewhere that you were developing a thing for me with piercings."

            Dave raises an eyebrow.  "Where the fuck did you hear such clearly inaccurate and slanderous accusations?"

            "Your brother."

            "He's a dick, don't listen to him."

            "So it's not true?"

            Dave smirks and shrugs his shoulders, leaning forward to rest his chin on the shoulder of his seat.  "I guess it might be a little true.  But don't tell him I said shit about it, he'll never let me live it down."

            "You got it," you say, and when Dirk comes back with food you make no effort to tell him exactly how right he was about his brother's newest infatuation.  You just take your meal from him and eat in relative silence as Dirk pulls out of the parking lot and heads back down the street; this is a part of town you're still unfamiliar with, so you spend most of your time listening to the weird chiptunes remixes and terribly written rap music that Dirk's playing, watching the buildings pass and trying to get your bearings in case you ever have to come back here.

            It's half-past eleven when Dirk finally pulls up along the curb, parking behind a small roadster.  You look at the car as you climb out and wonder if maybe you should look into upgrading your car some time - you've always liked how smaller cars looked, especially flashier kinds of sports cars - but you figure that's probably a thing you don't need to worry about until you actually have the cash for it.

            The shop you're now standing in front of as Dirk and Dave climb out of the car is a relatively small street-side place, pushed in between a record shop and an overpriced clothing boutique.  The windows are tinted and framed with elaborate curls and twists, not quite tribal in design but getting pretty close.  They're a lot more tasteful, at least.  The door has more painted on spirals and curls, and above the handlebar is the word _Sylph_ stenciled in an unassuming scripted font, followed by store hours.  You have to appreciate the fact that they didn't use something blocky, or something too flowery.

            "Font geek," Dave says as he passes you by.

            "What?"

            "You're eyeballing that door like you wanna ask it out to prom, or whatever old dude equivalent there is.  C'mon, there's more pretty lettering inside, promise."

            You nearly kick at him, but you manage to rein it in.  The last thing you need to do is make a total idiot of yourself in public - besides, Dirk is grabbing your hand and pulling you along, making it kind of difficult to get Dave in ass-kicking range.  You're pretty sure that's the point.

            The inside of Sylph almost reminds you of an upscale restaurant; it's all tastefully decorated with low cream colored sofas and green accents, and you feel a little bit like you're in the wrong place until you see the back area set up with tattooing equipment, perfectly color-coordinated inks and a few chairs meant for people getting tattoos to use.  The only other person visible in the shop is a woman in her mid-twenties, standing by a low table and fiddling with an electric kettle.  She's wearing a long skirt, heeled boots, a ruffled green top and a hijab.

            "Fuck yes, in time for tea," Dave says, bouncing on his heels.

            "You are indeed," the woman says without turning around.  "I imagined you would be showing up around now.  How is your tongue doing, Dave?"

            When she turns, Dave sticks his tongue out for her to see.  "It's fine," he says - or, you think he says, because he's literally talking with his tongue sticking out.  You kick his ankle and he yelps, scowling at you.

            "You must be Sollux," the woman says, and you step forward to shake her hand when she offers it.  "My name is Kanaya.  It is a pleasure to meet you."

            "Uh, nice to meet you too."

            "They told me that you were thinking of getting your ears pierced," Kanaya explains when she sees your hesitation, "I see they convinced you to go through with it."

            "More like forced me out of bed too early for me to be coherent," you reply, biting your lip when you realize that's probably more information than she needs - not to mention really fucking casual for a first conversation.

            Despite that, Kanaya only smiles and laughs a little.  "I think their overzealousness to give me their money is charming, personally," she says, "But they could have waited a _little_ longer and let you come to terms with the fact that I will be poking a needle through your ears in the very near future."

            "I think Dave mentioned something about tea," you say, "Maybe once or five times."

            Kanaya makes an approving noise and turns back to her electric kettle, and now you see that there's a small tea set sitting on the table, complete with a bowl of sugar cubes and little tea spoons.  You're a little surprised that Dave hadn't been exaggerating - you really are going to get tea service with your piercings.

            "I make all of my tea myself," Kanaya says, "My cousin and I have an herb garden at home, so I can grow all my own supplies.  I have heard on occasion that I do a relatively good job at mixing flavors."

            "Besides, it's just plain classy," Dirk says, and you look to see him smiling at Dave's clearly pleased expression.  "And you know us.  We're classy as shit."

            "Definitely," you say, rolling your eyes.  Kanaya's still smiling, though, which is nice.  You wonder if the twins have been coming here a lot, or if they know Kanaya from something else.

            Kanaya pours the water from the kettle into a teapot that matches the teacups and looks to Dave.  "Since you are my biggest fan, what sort of tea should we have today?"

            "Something citrusy," Dave immediately responds, moving around her to sit on the couch behind the table, "Like, uh.  Mint and orange, you got that, right?"

            "Yes, I do," she says, stepping away and heading towards the door in the back of the shop, "One minute.  I will let Porrim know you are here as well - I think she wants to convince you to get something done on your arm to match your brother."

            "Hell no," Dave says, "That's not happening."

            "If you say so," Kanaya says before disappearing into the back.  You take a moment to look around a little more, but other than the posters on the walls - all framed - there's not much to the place that you didn't see before.

            "Kanaya's a friend of Karkat's," Dirk says suddenly, and you turn to look at him.

            "Seriously?" you ask - you feel a little bad for being surprised, but... well.  You didn't really think Karkat had a lot of friends.

            "Not close or anything," Dave answers, "But like, we've seen them hanging out at Starbucks a few times.  I think Kanaya digs fixer-uppers."

            "I don't think she digs his brand of fixing," Dirk adds.

            "Well, _obviously_ , but still."

            You have no clue what they're talking about, but you're positive that it's none of your business.  You're a little surprised at how... well, _integrated_ everyone is around here.  You hadn't realized that Dirk and Dave knew Karkat, and now you're finding out that they actually know him well enough to know his friends.  You wonder how Karkat feels about that - you don't talk about the twins around him, because he always seems uncomfortable when they're involved.  You imagine that's probably because of your dumb ass opening the door half-naked with them.  ...Then again, maybe it's because Dave's hit on him before.  Karkat doesn't really strike you as the kind of guy to handle a Striderly come-on very well, and that's when you take into account how _you_ first handled it.

            Kanaya returns after only a minute with a small, lidded tin, and she quickly fills a tea strainer with sweet smelling, light colored tea, dropping it into the teapot and covering it.  "All right.  While that's steeping, we should talk about what sort of piercing you want.  I was told you'd want two?  One in each ear?"

            You can't help but chew on your lip when she says that - just how much have they told her about you and what you're looking for? - but you nod anyway.  There's no point in lying when Dirk and Dave are around; they'll just correct you and make you feel like an ass.  "I have a thing, I guess," you admit.

            "Duality fetish," Dirk says.

            "Obviously," Dave drawls.

            "You two are on a fast track to me walking out of here," you snap without malice; you're more embarrassed than anything.

            Kanaya's smiling at you, and you can see her amusement plainly in her eyes.  "Well, whatever the reason, that is something we can most definitely do for you.  I would only recommend getting one for each ear for now, and then seeing if you want more.  Where have you considered getting them?"

            You frown and look at Dave for help.  "Uh.  I'm not really sure.  What did you say I should do?"

            Dirk moves forward and pushes your hair back from your ear; you tilt your face away from Kanaya, both so she can see what Dirk is doing and also so you can hide the blush that's coming over you.  You _really_ need to get a handle on your reactions, here.

            Dirk's fingers pinch around the shell of your ear, just beneath the upper curve, and you think about how you've seen other people with piercings there.  It's more common than it used to be, at least.  You look past Kanaya, noticing a mirrored piece of art behind her, and use it to see where Dirk's indicating.

            "A little higher," you say, and Dirk obligingly moves his fingers up.  "Yeah. Uh, something like that."

            "Of course.  We can provide either a ring or a stud; due to how long it takes to heal - anywhere from two to four months, sometimes up to six - I would recommend a stud, just to make it easier to clean."

            "That sounds fine by me," you say.  "I'd rather make sure I can keep it clean than have it look a certain way right now."

            "Baby steps," Dave says.  You roll your eyes and he sticks his tongue out at you from behind Kanaya's back.

            Dirk lets go of your ear, bumping his shoulder against yours before going to sit beside Dave on the couch.  Kanaya is looking you over and you feel more than a little embarrassed by it, but she doesn't look concerned or even surprised by how casually Dirk touches you.  "I think we can give you exactly what you are looking for.  How about we have our tea, and then I will set up for you?  It should not take too long."

            "Sounds good to me," you say, "Thanks, by the way."

            "Not a problem," Kanaya says, pouring out four cups of sweet smelling mint tea.  You sit down next to Dave, who presses his arm against yours, and Kanaya only smiles as she hands you a cup.  Dave piles three sugar cubes into his own tea, and even Dirk takes one, but you kind of prefer it just like it is.

            Kanaya takes a few minutes to explain the procedure to you; she asks you if you have a low pain tolerance and you shake your head.  "Not low enough to flip out over a needle going through my ear, at least," you say, and she smiles.

            "You'll do better than Dave," someone says from near the back, and you look over to see another woman, taller and older than Kanaya by a few years, but still sharing a similar nose and eye shape.  Unlike Kanaya, she isn't wearing a hijab, but her clothes are just as stylish as her cousin's.  You assume this is Porrim.

            "What do you mean?" you ask with a grin; Dave glares at you, but you ignore him.

            "He wouldn't stop squirming.  His brother had to hold him down."  Porrim smiles as Dave pouts next to you, sulking against your arm and taking a begrudging sip of tea.

            "It worked out, though," Dirk says, "So if we need to hold you down too, we will."

            "It's for the greater good, at least," Porrim says, her smile widening.  "I'm sure you'll like your new piercings.  Once you start, you never stop, though, so be careful."

            "I'll keep that in mind," you say.

            "Do you have any particular colors you might want the studs in?" Kanaya asks, setting down her cup.  "We have quite a few basic studs in solid colors, unless you'd rather have silver or gold."

            "Uh."  You look at Dave, who looks back at you, and then shrug and run your hand through your hair.  "I'm big on red and blue," you admit, only a little reluctantly.

            "We have both of those," Kanaya says with a smile.  "Let me get everything set up, and then we can begin."

            She moves off to one of the chairs in the back of the shop, and Porrim takes her leftover cup of tea and finishes it off in a few sips.  "So, Dave, when do I get to give you a tattoo?" she asks.

            "Never," Dave says immediately.

            "Why not?" you ask, honestly curious.  Dave shrugs his shoulders.

            "Not my thing, I guess," he says, and though you don't really believe that's the only reason, you don't bother pushing.

            Dirk manages to distract Porrim by talking about a potential tattoo design, and you watch the way he talks with his hands, gesturing to his arm and explaining the idea of getting a full sleeve.  You don't know how long that would take, but you're kind of interested to see it happen.  Dave finishes off his tea, then takes Dirk's.

            "I am ready whenever you are, Sollux," Kanaya calls, and Dave puts his hand against your back.

            "You want me to curl up with you on that chair and keep you distracted?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.  You push him away as you stand.

            "I think I can handle it," you say, though most of that's probably bravado speaking.  Still, you know how to deal with potential pain, especially when it comes to needles, so you're pretty sure you'll be okay.  You've donated enough blood and gotten bloodwork done to be pretty okay with all this, all things considered.

            "Before we get started, let me mark your ears," Kanaya says, and you nod and push your hair behind your ears.  She uses a special marker, tapping the inside of both ears once, then looking at you critically.  "I think that should be where you want them," she says, reaching over and picking up a hand mirror, holding it up so you can see.  You try to imagine having metal studs sticking through where the marks are.  They're surprisingly level.

            "Yeah, that's fine."

            Kanaya nods and has you sit down on one of the low-backed, non-reclining chairs, and you fold your hands in your lap.  "I think this will look good on you," Kanaya says as she finishes prepping the needle, holding out two studs in gloved hands.  "Will these do?"

            The red is shinier than the blue, but you kind of like that, so you nod and give her a brief thumbs up.  "Looks good to me," you say, and she smiles at you.

            "All right.  You will feel a sharp pinch, and hear some popping, but that is completely normal, so do not be alarmed.  This will only take a few minutes.  Which one would you like in your right ear - blue, or red?"

            "Red in the right, blue in the left," you respond without hesitation.  You've known which side is which color ever since you were thirteen.

            "Excellent," she says, seemingly pleased that you know what you're getting yourself into.  "I will use a needle to make the hole, and then thread the stud through.  It should only take a few seconds, really."

            "That's fine, don't worry about me," you tell her.  She smiles again and then double checks the needle.  You look over at Dirk and Dave; Dirk is still talking to Porrim, but his head is tilted and you know that behind his shades, he's looking at you.  Dave has his aviators pushed up, watching you openly, and you see him fixate on the needle that Kanaya is about to use on your ear.  You wonder if the reason he doesn't want to get a tattoo is because he's scared of needles.  Getting his tongue pierced must've been one hell of an attempt at exposure therapy.

            "Just relax," Kanaya tells you, stepping just barely in the way of your line of vision.  You keep looking past her at Dave and Dirk, and you do what you've done every time you're faced with some kind of pain - you think about something else.  In this case, you think about Dave being afraid of needles, and you think about Dirk and his tattoos, and you only feel the needle sliding in for a second before the piercing pain is replaced by something more burning.  You wince a little once Kanaya steps back to get the stud, but you don't move otherwise.  Dave looks a little flustered - you wonder why.  He's not the one getting his ear pierced after more than a decade of thinking about it.  He's not the one getting it as a Christmas present from...  Whatever the twins are to you.  Friends with benefits?

            Kanaya threads the stud through and clips on the end, and says, "There; one down, one to go.  Would you like to see?"

            "Yeah," you say, a little distracted.  Friends with benefits doesn't sound right to you.  You don't think of them that way.  Kanaya holds up the mirror and you tilt your head until you can see the red ball in your ear.  It's throbbing and your ear is a little swollen and red, but it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as you expected.  "Looks good to me."

            "Perfect.  We'll get the other one done now."  Kanaya moves to sterilize the needle again.

            "Handled that like a champ," Dave says.  You grin at him.

            "I'm not afraid of a needle," you say, and he blinks at you before pursing his lips briefly.  You _knew_ that was his problem.

            Kanaya comes back and stands to your left.  "Again, this will only take a few seconds," she says, and you nod.

            Your thoughts immediately fixate again on the question of what the Striders are to you as Kanaya lines up the needle.  You don't know why it's starting to bother you, but it is; you don't need a label for it, but having one would probably make your life a lot easier.  You wonder what Karkat would call it, other than weird.  You don't like bringing the Striders up with him, though; you know it makes him uncomfortable.  He always awkwardly asks whether or not they're over before he invites you to his apartment to drink, as though he's concerned about interrupting something.  You guess that's nice of him, but you wish he wouldn't be so awkward about it.

            Kanaya clips the earring together and you realize you didn't even feel that one, though now it's burning and throbbing like the other side; your right side is already calming down, though, and you figure the left one will soon enough.

            "There we are.  All done," Kanaya says.  You grin and let her show you the mirror again, taking in the two studs and thinking about how weird it is that you waited so long to do this.  It's almost as weird as having twin brothers convince you to do it overnight.

            You climb out of the chair and head back over to Dave and Dirk, who stand up themselves.  Dirk follows Porrim over to the cash register, pulling out his wallet, while Dave moves over to your side and grabs your hand.  "Lemme see," he says, and you tilt your head obligingly.  "Damn," he says after a minute, "That looks good.  Glad I could talk you into it."

            "Yeah," you say, smiling a little, unable to help it, "Me too.  One more thing to check off my bucket list, I guess."  You see Kanaya finishing putting away her tools and say, "I think it's probably safe to say that I'm going to come back for the other two eventually."

            "I would hope so.  You were the perfect customer," Kanaya replies with a smile, coming up to you and holding out a small paper bag.  "I have some supplies to help take care of the piercings until they heal - if they get swollen or start looking infected, come to me and I may be able to help, but I am sure you will be fine."

            You take the bag and smile.  "Thanks."

            "Maybe we can convince you to get a tattoo with Dirk," Porrim adds, smiling a little herself as she leans against the counter, watching Dirk slide his credit card.  "I bet we could find something for you."

            You shrug.  "I'd have to think about it, but I've considered getting one once or twice too.  Who knows."

            "We'll make a regular out of you yet," Porrim says.  "Thanks for giving us your business."

            Dave winks at Porrim, squeezing your hand as he does so, and you don't need him to pull you as he leads you out of the shop, Dirk following behind.

            "Man, you were zen in there," Dirk says appreciatively.  "I didn't think you'd take it that easily."

            "It's all about focusing on something else," you reply, shrugging a little.

            "Yeah, you were staring pretty intensely," Dave says.

            "Anything on your mind?" Dirk asks.

            You wonder if you should ask them about what you are to them, or what they're supposed to be to you.  How would you even begin to word that?  How would you really be able to ask?

            "Not really," you say finally.  "Just thinking about how Dave's too scared of needles to get a tattoo."

            "Hey!" Dave says, "I'm not fuckin' scared of needles."

            You let go of his hand as you reach the car, pulling open the back door.  "Pretty sure you are," you say with a lopsided smirk.  "It's kind of obvious."

            "Yeah, well, Dirk's afraid of sharks," Dave says, sulking as he slides into the front passenger seat.  Dirk shrugs his shoulders, shoving the key into the ignition.

            "Sharks are freaky," is all he says.  You grin.

            "What are you scared of?" Dave asks, looking back at you as you click on your seatbelt.

            "What you're going to say when I tell you I don't have any presents for you," you reply.  "Seriously, I didn't think about it."

            "No big," Dirk says.  "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

            Dave waggles his eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes.

            "I'll have to give you guys a coupon or something.  One free favor, or whatever."

            "Oh, that won't backfire on you in an awful way," Dave says, and you frown at him for a minute before grinning.

            "I don't think it'll backfire at all," you say, and kick his seat.  Dave laughs and swats at you, and Dirk just flips to a radio station playing Christmas music and cranks it up until he can't hear you and Dave.  You think about the label issue again, and you realize that no, you don't actually care too much what this is supposed to be.  It's better to just go with it, and deal with labels when they need to be dealt with.  You'd much prefer to be happy in the dark for as long as possible.

            "Hey," you say after a few minutes, "Could we stop by Wal-Mart or something?"

            "What for?" Dirk asks.

            You grin wide.  "I think that K.K. could use some obnoxious, multicolored lights the size of footballs."


End file.
